TIME SHIP (Book Two) - A Time Travel Romantic Adventure

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TIME SHIP (Book Two) - A Time Travel Romantic Adventure Page 5

by Ian C. P. Irvine


  "Miss Sally, I hear what you say. There is much to consider...but no one can stop the plague, everyone knows that. It is a death sentence!"

  "It was in your day, in 1699, but not anymore. We can treat normal plague. The death rate does not have to be high! Unfortunately though, the doctor thinks that the infection you carry is more powerful than the normal plague. It would appear to be a variation of the plague that came from China and swept across Europe. This is a new plague. We need to determine as soon as we can just how different it is, and how it can and should be treated. If we are successful, many of us will survive. But time is of the essence!"

  "And what if we do survive? How will we live in this world of yours? You will hang us all as pirates!"

  "I do not believe that will happen. First of all, no one really hangs anyone any more. And the circumstances of your arrival here in this resort will provide extenuating circumstances, by which I believe the judicial system will find a way to ensure your liberty. But only if you now desist from any further acts of violence. You have to lay down your arms and surrender to the authorities. In a few hours the army will arrive with the police force, and together they will barricade us all into this resort, preventing anyone from leaving. You are now as much trapped here as we are. But, you have a choice. You can choose whether you will walk out of this resort at some point in the future - when our medicines have treated you and the illness has passed - or you can chose to fight us and refuse our medical treatment and ultimately be carried out of the resort in a metal coffin or have your body burnt on the beach… If you surrender, we can help you. You are an intelligent man, Captain Rob. I know you are. The men respect you and follow your orders. They will do as you say. Even if it is just for their sakes, please lay down your weapons and let us call in more doctors to help save all their lives. Please... You still have the power Captain Rob, the power to decide who will live and who will die. I am asking you to make the sensible decision: the correct decision that any leader would make who cared for his men, and for civilians."

  The Captain stared at Miss Sally. Although his face was blank of emotion, his eyes reflected the myriad of thoughts going round and around within his mind. Sally said nothing, waiting for him to make the only decision that any intelligent and good leader of men really should.

  In those minutes as she stood waiting, she knew that all their lives were being weighed in the balance.

  She had only known the Captain for hours, but she was sure that he was a man that would make the correct choices, given all the correct information.

  She just prayed she had given him enough information to help him save their lives.

  Chapter 28

  WAMB Radio station

  Florida

  USA

  10: 30 a.m.

  Snazzy B., the coolest hip-hop and funk man in the South had just begun his morning radio show, broadcasting live from Miami Beach, when one of the assistants on the phone-in desk starting waving her hands wildly in the air from behind the other side of the glass panels which surrounded him.

  Snazzy pushed the button to start playing another round of the morning's sponsored ads, and picked up the desk phone to the outside world.

  "What's up? What's all the fuss?"

  "You've got to pick up Line One. It's a world exclusive! Someone is on the line from Puerto Rico. They're in a holiday resort, which has just been taken over by terrorists. Hundreds of the guests have been taken hostage..."

  Snazzy dropped the phone, and picked up Line One.

  "Hi. Is that Snazzy B?"

  "Sure is, we're off the air just now, so I've got a minute..."

  "Cool. Listen man, I'm a great fan. A big fan. I listen every day when I'm working back home, but right now, man, I'm on holiday. Well, it's meant to be a holiday, but something pretty scary is going down outside my room, and I thought you might like to know about it. In case you get any free tickets for some super gig, that you might want to send my way, one day...if you get my drift?"

  "If your news IS news, then it's a deal. So what's up?"

  "There's a lot up, man. The thing is, I was just about to go down to breakfast, when I heard screaming and shouting coming from outside in the grounds of the resort. I opened my window and checked it out, and guess what, man?"

  "I don't know. You tell me?"

  "Well, there is a bunch of guys walking around with guns and machine-guns and they're rounding people up and taking them somewhere."

  "Terrorists?"

  "Yeah, terrorists. But freaky terrorists man. Not your normal, run-of-the-mill type of terrorist. These guys are all dressed up as pirates!"

  "Pirates?"

  "Yeah, like 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and that shit!"

  "Pirates. Listen, I'm not being disrespectful or anything, but have you been smoking anything? And what did you say your name was?"

  "Yeah, actually I have. But I'm on my VA-CA-TION, man, so give me a break. It's purely medicinal... Helps ease the nerves."

  "Hey, listen the ads I'm playing are just finishing. Can you give us your number? We'll call you back soon. We just need to confirm your story before we put you on air? Is that cool? If what you say checks out, then I'll call you back, and you can talk to the nation! Tell them what you see! Does that sound good?"

  "Sure does...And so do free tickets to some mega gig sometime."

  "Agreed. Then stay close, man. We'll call you back!"

  Snazzy B hung up the phone, thinking fast. He introduced the next track, then picked up the phone to Mike, the station manager, quickly explaining the call that they had just had. The station manager was not a stupid man, he knew that recently advertising revenues on the station were down, but that if they got the exclusive on a terrorist attack, they could milk it for all it was worth.

  Within minutes he was on the phone to a media agency in Puerto Rico. He hired a helicopter, a sound and camera crew, and told them to call back as soon as they were in the air and approaching the resort.

  Then he got on the phone to a friend at an affiliated TV station, and began to sell rights to the video feed he might just get, if he was lucky and something seriously bad was happening at the Blue Emerald.

  Mike loved radio, but TV was better. With any luck, this could help him climb another rung up the media ladder.

  --------------------

  Dave's Bedroom

  Atlanta, Georgia

  10: 50 a.m.

  The first photographs of pirates began to appear on Facebook at about the same time that relatives, radio and television stations across America and the Caribbean all started to receive phone calls from those lucky enough to be on holiday inside the Blue Emerald, the most exclusive vacation resort in Puerto Rico.

  Dave, a fifteen year old sophomore student from Atlanta, off sick from High School with a cold, was one of the first people in America to see a photograph of a 'Pirate who was running round the resort killing people!', or so the text underneath it suggested.

  Dave hit the like button, got on Twitter, and shared the picture with all his friends and relatives.

  All across America, other people were doing the same.

  For some however, the news that was emerging from the Blue Emerald had no entertainment value at all: they were the relatives who were being called by loved ones, who were distressed and in tears, and who believed their lives were under threat.

  "...Mom...I think I'm going to die! I saw a man being shot by the terrorists. Then they cut him up with their swords. I saw it happen with my own eyes...! Help me. I'm hiding in my room under my bed. Call the police, ...quickly! Before they come and get me too!"

  --------------------

  Antonio (Nery) Juarbe Pol Airport

  Close to Arecibo

  Puerto Rico.

  10. 55 a.m.

  Normally, this time of morning would be relatively quiet, but from 10.30 a.m. onwards the phones of the helicopter private hire companies had been going crazy.

  There were only four helicopter
s based at the airport, and usually they would be hired out to companies running excursions for the residents of the string of expensive hotels along the coast. But this morning, television and radio stations were calling the phones off the hook, offering silly money to hire one of their flying machines. And 'silly money' could not be ignored.

  By 10.55 a.m., all the helicopters were in the air, flying across Puerto Rico to pick up reporters or camera crews.

  The first helicopter to make the approach to the resort arrived at 11.02 a.m. It had been chartered by the WAMB Radio station.

  "Mike, Hi!, This is James O'Neil here. I'm your eyes and ears for today. We're just about to make our first pass over the resort. The cameras are rolling. We've set up a live video feed to you as instructed, so if you check the link, you should see it streaming right over to you as we speak! Man, this place is hot today..."

  "Hey, I'll be with you in a second...I'm just opening up the link now...Wow...!"

  "Exactly, we're just passing over a column of police cars AND, bloody hell, there is a big column of the Puerto Rico National Guard ahead of it. There must be hundreds of men down there, with several tanks, and there's an artillery unit too!"

  "I can see it now. Yes, there's definitely something big happening in the resort. How long before you are there?"

  "Seconds. We're just coming up to the walls of the resort now. Passing over now...We're above the ...bloody hell... do you see what I see? There are ..."

  Just then the helicopter banked steeply to the right, and the pilot swore loudly on the intercom.

  "Some bastard was just about to take a pot shot at us. He fired, but I think he missed us...I hope!" the pilot shouted.

  "Did you get that Mike, we've just been fired at. We're heading towards the beach now...there were a bunch of men dressed like pirates just below us who seemed to be marshalling some residents along a path...one of them raised a rifle and opened fire."

  "Can you circle around and go over again? I'll put you live on air...just speak up and tell us what you see?"

  "Sure thing..."

  "Ladies and Gentlemen, I interrupt this cool broadcast of your favorite funk, to bring you a breaking piece of news...Yes folks, it's another WAMB Radio Exclusive! We are just getting news in from one of our roving reporters on assignment in Puerto Rico, that terrorists have taken over the Blue Emerald Bay MOST EXCLUSIVE Resort, and that they are holding all the residents hostage. Well, all I can say, is that if they are letting the terrorists in, it can't be that EXCLUSIVE, can it? To find out more, we're going over LIVE in a jive, to the WAMB helicopter in the sky above the resort!"

  "Thanks Snazzy B. This is James O'Neil here, hovering over the Blue Emerald Bay Resort in the WAMB helicopter. If you want to follow a live video feed, switch on your TV and go to Channel 192. But be quick...One of the terrorists below just took a shot at us, and we had to bug out quick-time. But we're back now, to make sure we bring the latest news exclusively to you on WAMB. From where I am in my perch in the sky, I can see groups of terrorists herding the hostages around in the resort complex below us. There are at least two bodies lying motionless within the complex, and another on the beach. And, shockingly, as we passed over the beach a few minutes ago, we could see the terrorists standing beside several coffins, and a pile of what looked like body bags. The terrorists themselves...quick...look! - there goes one, running across the courtyard - ...Did you see him? Yes, well, they are all dressed in what looks like pirate costumes to me. As I was saying, the terrorists themselves don't seem to have made any demands yet, but it looks like they are preparing for quite a few dead bodies. We can only pray they are not planning to kill all the hostages! Okay, we're going to fly back just outside the complex now, and show you what we saw as we flew over on the way in...There, on your left, you can see a whole division of the Puerto Rico National Guard and several hundred police preparing to deploy around the perimeter of the resort. Unfortunately, it's not looking good. Oops...oh no...someone is shooting at us again...it's time to leave! Back to you in the studio Snazzy B. From me...it's over and out!"

  --------------------

  The phones on the desk of the Superintendent started ringing off the hook. Suddenly he was the most wanted man in the world. Every news station in America and on the Internet was calling him for an angle, or for news of what was going on.

  On the bank of video screens in the Operation Cutlass Incident Room in police headquarters in Puerto Rico, the Superintendent was watching the live television feeds showing aerial views of the resort on at least four different US channels. WAMB Radio from Miami might have had the initial exclusive, but now there were not one, but four helicopters flying backwards and forwards above the resort. 'Like flies on a dying cow!' he thought.

  "Five minutes!" a woman shouted, as she hurried into the Incident Room. "They're promising me that the cell phone network over the whole area in and around that part of the island will be shut down in five minutes. No one will be able to use their cell phones to call in or out of the complex. And the telephone network is already off the grid."

  "And them damn helicopters?" the Superintendent asked loudly.

  "Three of the helicopter companies have been contacted...the last one is not answering."

  "Send in our largest helicopter to force it off the premises. Do it now! And make sure that video feed is jammed, and cut off all internet traffic coming out of the resort. Kill it all. Bloody hell, one of those helicopters has filmed the coffins that were put down on the beach! And two of them have been circling that damn pirate boat, and filming the crew and their bloody cannons!"

  One of the men in the Incident Room spoke up.

  "This isn't all bad. We can use this to our advantage. People now think that there are going to be lots of deaths caused by the terrorists. So, if the plague does kill people, and we can contain it within the resort, then we can say that the people who died were all killed by the terrorists!"

  "And what if the terrorists survive? And they tell the truth?"

  "Then we just hope that they don't. Anyway, for now, that is the least of our problems. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, we've got to get that place locked down as tight as can be. We have to establish a Kill Zone around the resort, and make sure the World Health Organisation gets in there as soon as possible!"

  "Any news yet on the terrorists? Have they given in yet? Or do we have to go in there and kill them too before we send in the W.H.O. team? You know, there could be a certain advantage to us just going in there and killing them all. That way we could reduce the risk of the disease spreading."

  "Possibly," one of the doctors on the team agreed. "But, this will be spreading so fast that by now there is a strong possibility that a lot of the guests will already be infected. They just won't realise it until tomorrow night...or sooner...Or are you suggesting that we kill all the guests too?"

  The Governor stood up from the table around which they all sat. He hadn't said anything yet, but when he spoke he shocked them all. "That last option will always have to remain on the table. Until we find out just exactly what we are dealing with here, we can't rule out the possibility of scorched earth being the best and only policy."

  "What do you mean?" the Superintendent asked, looking up at the Governor as he walked to the front of the room and stood in front of the video screens.

  "I mean, that if the World Health Organisation agrees that this is as deadly as Dr Mitchell, - the so-called 'expert' within the resort - , thinks that this possibly is, then the President of the United States has already authorized me to do whatever is necessary! The U.S. Government has special plans for situations such as these. If a virus can be contained within a limited area, an effective way to kill the virus is to incinerate everything within that area. If everything is burned, incinerated, the virus will be killed. Everyone else outside of that area will then be saved."

  "But the President's nephew is one of the guests in the resort!"

  "I've spoken with th
e President personally. He knows. So, let's just hope it doesn't come to that..."

  Chapter 29

  The Blue Emerald Bay Resort

  Puerto Rico

  11:05 a.m.

  Captain Rob McGregor knelt on the sand a few feet away from Richard Tyler. The Captain was very concerned for the man. Ever since he had met him in the tavern in Port Royal in Jamaica, he had grown to like Richard Tyler more each day. He was not the most handsome of men, and not the tallest, but he was straightforward, honest, jovial, intelligent and hard-working. The Captain knew, that in the short time he had spent aboard the Sea Dancer, that the rest of the crew had grown to like him too.

  Richard Tyler was lying on the sand. A fever raged within his body, and he was sweating profusely. Richard knew what was happening to him and he looked scared. The Captain smiled at him, attempting to be reassuring and cheerful, and although Tyler smiled back, the Captain knew that he was neither reassured nor cheered.

  Doctor Mitchell had already told the Captain that there was nothing that they could do for him without the proper medication, which still had not arrived: of the two helicopters that had landed on the beach earlier, neither of them had contained the needed medicines.

  One of the helicopters was the one which had returned with the wounded guard, the crew of which had been ushered along with the wounded man to the doctor's surgery in the resort, where they were placed under quarantine. The helicopter was empty now, abandoned at the end of the beach.

 

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